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“She’s the daughter of a former underboss, and word is that she’s been taken. The Italians are losing their patience now trying to find her. They’ve tried to keep it quiet, but it’s slipping out into the open now.”
I glance over at Mikhail, but he’s too busy looking at our father.
The mention of the Italians immediately sends alarm bells ringing. We have an alliance in place with them to ensure peace on both sides, but now that one of theirs has gone…missing, and people are slowly finding out about her…
Trouble. For all of us.
“Again, how is this our problem?”
My brother is blunt with his words, but I can see the flicker of emotion shining through his eyes.
We know what this means for us. This has become bigger than anything we’ve ever imagined.
Our father exhales slowly, leaning forward now, folding his hands on the desk.
“This is where it becomes interesting. This girl…” He trails off as a smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “For some reason,weare being blamed for what has happened. There is no proof, but whispers are being shared, and rumours are flying around. The Italians are blaming us Russians for the princess being taken, though I haven’t instructed any soldier to make that move.”
This time, I feel Mikhail glancing over at me.
It doesn’t make sense that the Italians have blamed us straight away, not when we haven’t given them any reason to.
Something in his tone makes me question him. He smiles at me, pleased that I’ve caught onto it.
“Keep an eye on things, and keep an ear out too. Keep me informed on how you both plan to handle this. The Italian princess must be found at once, and I want our names cleared from this mess. Understood?”
The room closes in as I try to process what he’s asking us.
This mention of the Italian princess—our princess—is a complication we never expected, and now, it’s our responsibility to figure out how to manage this mess it’s caused.
I lean back into my chair, the heavy weight of my brother’s gaze unrelenting as he waits for me to respond on behalf of us both. I nod at once, and so does Mikhail.
“Of course, Otets. We will both deal with it, and handle this situation too.”
Mikhail, ever the impatient one, shifts slightly in his seat.
I open my mouth, uncertain how to phrase the question that’s been flashing in my head ever since our father first began speaking about this Italian princess, when I finally find all the right words.
My voice is controlled as I speak.
“Why does the Italian mafia think we are behind this? What proof do the Italians have, Otets, or are they simply pointing fingers?”
The atmosphere changes.
Our father’s face hardens as his expression turns cold. His jaw clenches tight enough that we can see his muscles moving beneath the surface. After looking away briefly, he meets our eyes again.
“There is history.” He reveals, blowing out a heavy breath. “When you both were younger, there was an incident which resulted in an Italian woman—one of the famiglia’s—being murdered. She was brutally slaughtered under the direction of a Russian. Although being Pakhan, I had no idea this was carried out until it happened.”
Mikhail and I exchange a look, both of us clearly surprised by what we’re hearing.
Neither one of us have heard about thisincidentbefore. As we both sit up straighter, we keep our faces focused on him, wanting to hear the rest.
“After it was revealed that a Russian was behind this, the Italians still chose not to retaliate. Instead, they chose to remain silent. It was a gesture of respect, a sign that they valued peace, even with all the pain we had forced upon them. After that, I made sure to maintain a good relationship with the Don, and his soldiers too. It was my way of making things right after unnecessary violence had spiralled out of control.”
This is news to me.
The respect we had, the fragile peace with the Italians…it’s a part of Bratva history, and we were kept in the dark about it.
It's even more complicated than I ever thought.